


Siren Waters

by shoesoftennis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Comedy, M/M, Romance, Siren Waters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoesoftennis/pseuds/shoesoftennis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francypants sails into Siren Waters and survives. Wait, what? We all know France can't resist the temptation of women... or England's arse. (Sorry, I suck at summaries...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siren Waters

"But you... How did you even survive?!" England exclaimed, his palms slamming on the map in front of him. A knife stuck in a familiar place any pirate would know - Siren Territory. Unbeknownst to the public, Sirens haunted the waters thirty miles off the southern tip of Britain and had for hundreds of years. Although land dwellers thought Sirens were just a myth created to scare children away from the deepest waters in a cove, every pirate knew those beautiful sea women were not to be trifled with. And if they were trifled with... well, men had no chance.

And that was why England wondered how the hell France had gotten out of Siren Waters alive.

France himself sat across from his blonde frenemy and watched England's little outburst with amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Ah, yes, but you forget, women adore me as well~" the Frenchman said, flipping his silky, golden hair over his shoulder. Then, he tucked it behind his ear and gave England an infuriating smirk.

England's eye twitched. "You're an idiot! I'm trying to be considerate and wonder at what horrors you've been through!" England hissed, slamming his fist against the map again. The table holding both fist and map up trembled under the assault, but England didn't even notice. "How the hell did you get out of there without even a scratch?"

France chuckled, resituating his blue overcoat and settling into the mahogany chair he'd been given by a very fussy Arthur Kirkland. "How did YOU survive, England~?" Francis Bonnefoy asked, his voice an annoying purr. "You've been through there more times than God Himself can count~"

A rose-red blush bloomed to England's face, and he shook his head. "That's not true! I only go there because it's the fastest way to the Caribbean Islands!" he hissed. "And also, my intellect has gotten me through it!"

Another all-knowing chuckle dripped like poison from Francis' lips. That mouth turned up and teeth bit its lower lip. "Or is it because of something else~?" Francis said, his hat drooping over one eye. He looked more dangerous like that (not that Francis was really a danger), and Arthur almost gulped.

The Englishman wanted to tug his collar that had suddenly become too stiff. Wait, was that... sweat dripping down his forehead? Oh, God Almighty...

"Maybe... your preference?" Francis murmured, his voice lilting more luxuriously into a stronger French accent. His English words were coated in the accentuation, and England wanted to throttle the Frenchman where he sat.

"What kind of damn preference?" growled Arthur. He put his feet up on the table and tapped the knife with the toe of his left boot. "My preference on choice of good pirates? Yes, maybe that's it, French halfwit."

"Your comebacks are shit like always, England~" Francis returned, his arms crossed comfortably over his chest. He sprawled out in the chair, his legs spread slightly and his back cocooned in the weave of the chair.

England snarled. "Are you going to tell me what the hell happened, or am I going to have to torture you for the damn information?" he finally threatened. His green eyes sharpened and flashed with anger, and Francis decided quickly the time for games was past.

"Oui, oui, don't get your pantaloons into a twist," Francis said. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling of Captain Kirkland's quarters. "Now where to begin? Hmm... Yes. That's a good place."

* * *

 

"Sir, we are nearing Siren Waters," Captain Bonnefoy's first mate said softly. He was afraid to speak loudly lest the Sirens hear him early and make the crew a meal sooner. The man wanted to keep his balls for a little while longer, if God allowed.

Captain Francis Bonnefoy sat carelessly on the side of the ship, his arms crossed. He looked relaxed, his face spread into an easygoing smile. "Oh, yes, my friend, I see," France said, jumping onto the quarter deck and helping to raise a topsail. The feather stuck in his tri-corner hat whipped in the cold breeze falling between the peaks of the rocky boulders high above.

The pass they'd sailed into held a haunting aura; the crew had shivered just seeing it, but actually being in it was a totally different story - everyone was on high alert. Except, for some reason, the captain.

Bonnefoy's first mate shrugged when Francis didn't say anything else and disappeared down onto the gun deck.

Sighing as a refreshing burst of winter air filled his nostrils, Francis finished helping raise the fore topsail and then skipped down to the main deck. He disappeared within his captain's quarters and looked out the window. All he could see were rock outcroppings and caves formed by water erosion over the years.

He turned away from the circular window and sat down at a vanity table. He hummed as he picked up a brush, combing through his golden hair. Running his fingers through it, he opened three buttons on his shirt then blinked at the mirror a few times, making sure his eyes were bluer than the ocean. When he was convinced his eye color met his standards, he quickly shaved off a few hairs of his stubble, willing it to be just barely there. He then checked his skin twiceover, looking for any sort of flaw, but there was nothing. "Oh!" he squeaked as he reached for the door. He'd forgotten the most important part of his appearance. He needed to change his pants. Hurriedly shucking his older, frayed pants and putting on a newer, spic-n-span pair, he finally reappeared on the deck. The crew looked over at him, their heads tilting as if they couldn't quite figure out why the captain had vanished for the length of time Francis had. Huffing in irritation, Francis called out the order to batten everything down. He ducked over to where a bunch of coils of rope lay, and he picked them up.

"And by battening everything down," he shouted, his voice booming off the walls of the ravine, "I mean battening all of this CREW down."

* * *

 

A girl with auburn hair watched as the girl in pirate get-up tied the crew to the masts of the ship. The redhead giggled and slipped back underwater. She didn't have to swim down long before her friends swarmed her, asking what the crew was like. "Meaty," she said, licking her lips in anticipation. "And dirty but what pirate crew isn't~?"

That made everyone laugh. An older girl with mouse-brown hair in a braid patted the redhead's shoulder. "Sounds like a good catch~ Would you like to lead, Cassandra~?" she asked, her sea-green eyes grinning with malice and pride. An odd combination, but one Cassandra was used to seeing.

Cassandra smirked, her pallet moistening joyfully. "Yes, but... There is one small... thing," she said. She looked to each Siren in turn and ran a hand through her flaming hair. The brown-haired girl, Fiona, raised an eyebrow.

"What's this... thing?" she asked.

"There's a girl aboard."

The crowd of Sirens giggled softly, their hair flowing gently in the current. "Oh well!" a chestnut-haired girl, Marina, said. She shrugged, her smirk growing as she looked up at the hulking shadow of the ship's hull passing over them. "We can just drown her. Anyway, ladies, right now - it's showtime~"

* * *

 

Francis was leaning excitedly over the edge of the main deck, his smirk growing as the first Siren appeared on a rock outcropping below the deck, her blue eyes cornering Francis' gaze. He smirked at her, and she seemed surprised.

"Hello, beautiful~" he purred. "Your red hair is absolutely stunning, but I apologize, it's too cold for me to swim today~"

Her mouth had dropped open in shock. She quickly recovered as the ship was passing her by and dipped into the water. She resurfaced in front of France, her elbows hugging the wooden rail. She opened her mouth to sing that magnetizing song Sirens were known for, but before she could think of the first syllable, Francis' mouth had covered hers in a passionate, French-style kiss. His tongue traced hers, and she made a strange sound in the back of her throat. He moved as fast as lightning, and soon, he had the soft spot of her neck locked between his lips. She gasped, her heart hammering harshly against her ribcage. Suddenly, he let her go and the warmth of his mouth had disappeared with him.

Cassandra couldn't believe it. What the hell had just happened? Had a woman just done what she was supposed to do to a man? She looked up into the man's blue eyes and realized consciously for the first time that he wasn't a woman. This was just a man with unfashionably long hair, but... it looked amazing on him. Cassandra couldn't believe how attracted she was to this male - usually, the men she seduced had no effect on her in the least, but this man had some kind of casual yet dark charm that lured her farther in.

"Forgive me, darling~" the captain said softly, his voice deep and luxurious. "I did not realize how forward my actions were~ But you are something more radiant than the stars, the moon, and the sun combined, and I wanted a memory of you to take with me wherever I travel~"

Frozen, Cassandra could only stare at him. She lost herself in the whirling depths of his romantic eyes and didn't even notice when his boots squished away from her and towards another waiting victim. She felt her heart go with him, so she followed the blonde man in a daze. 'What happened?' she distantly wondered the entire time.

* * *

 

 

"Oh, ladies, I'm sorry our time has been cut so short~" Francis purred deeply, his finger tipping up a brown-headed Siren's chin.

The girls pouted, their scales flashing in the weak, winter sunlight. Francis went down the line fanned out along the rails of his boat and kissed each of them directly on the lips, his mouth melding to theirs like butter. He flashed them all a panty-dropping smirk (if Sirens could wear underpants) and waved them off as he exited the ravine. The crew, after being completely under the spell of the Sirens' beauty, came to their senses and gawked at Francis untying them as if nothing had just happened.

"How did you do it, Captain?" Francis' first mate asked when they'd raised the sails to their full height and watched them billow in the biting wind. Francis' shoulders came up then went back down effortlessly. He smiled gently and looked up at the clouds shaping and reshaping above his head.

"Two reasons. One, I am around gorgeous women all the time; their material effect has long been lost on me. Two, I have already found someone I want, and I will not stray from them unless someone with an even better personality than their angelic yet devilish one comes along," France said calmly.

His first mate blinked then decided to leave it alone. Who cared who Francis fell in love with? He knew it wouldn't last.

* * *

 

"Who the hell do you like so much, France?" England growled when France had finished his long-winded story. Francis turned his face to look out the window of England's quarters.

"Why do you care so much, England?" Francis whispered so low Arthur could barely hear it.

For a second, England's heart stilled. And then it beat again at an inhuman pace. "Do you mean to say...?"

Suddenly, Francis stood up and knocked over the wicker chair Arthur had set up for him.

"'Ey! What's the big idea?!" Arthur said as Francis stalked out of the captain's quarters.

Francis turned to look at his friend and gave him an emotionless stare. "I'm leaving now," he said. "Goodbye, England."

He slammed the door before England could form a coherent reply.

Arthur just kind of stared after Francis. The Frenchman had slammed the door as if he was angry, and Arthur just couldn't figure out why. He hadn't really SAID anything super offensive. And if he had, the Frenchie usually took it... Okay, not well, but he tolerated it and didn't immediately run away. Maybe after England had given him a good thrashing for daring to choke him, France would run, but honestly, what had gotten INto France?

Before he really knew what he was doing, England had dashed out onto the main deck and caught Francis before he walked down into the harbor and vanished among the throngs of merchants, fishmongers, citizens of the English port, and other pirates. The sun stung Arthur's eyes, but he blinked away the yellow and red spots dotting across his vision. His fingers touched the collar of France's blue overcoat and pulled him back off the plank leading down to the wharf. "Where the hell d'ya think you're going?! You can't just walk away! That's rude and uncalled for!" England shouted. He seethed for a minute - breath ragged and sharp. He wasn't really that mad, but putting on a good show might give him what he wanted. Plus, France was all about diva moments, so this should capture the Frenchman's attention.

Francis Bonnefoy glared down at his friend and then at the hand holding his coat. He ripped away, his face uncharacteristically dark and brooding. "I can do whatever I want. I am French, after all," he said sharply.

England should have been shocked, but he just wanted to know what was up with France. Although they fought all the time, it annoyed Arthur when Francis wouldn't tell him what was going on. They were friends - to an extent - and friends told each other things, embarrassing or not. That way, they could work it out together, and two minds were better than one. Right? Or did Francis not WANT to be friends anymore? Or did he think they were enemies? No... Hadn't he SAIDthey were friends before? Arthur thought about it for a moment; no, he couldn't remember a time off the top of his head when France had said they were chums. England inwardly sighed and looked into Francis' blue eyes. "That's my line," he said, forcing a lightness into his tone.

Captain Bonnefoy shrugged and continued down the ramp to the wharf.

"'Ey! Why are you being so fucking rude today?!" Arthur yelled, following him.

Francis didn't turn around and kept going along the dock's edge. He soon entered the crowd of passing people, and Arthur realized he was heading toward the squalid inn just beyond a fish stall. The smell of fresh and not-so-fresh fish caught Arthur's nose, but he smelled worse everyday, so he put it easily out of his mind.

He watched Francis' nose wrinkle at the smell. Arthur smirked a little. Even as a pirate the man still craved luxury, and Arthur could tell the scent of turpentine and piss wasn't always present on Francis' ship. At least, not strongly.

Finally, the Frenchman turned around, and his sea-blue eyes flashed irately. "Can't you just GO AWAY and stop following me, you stupid English pigdog?!" Francis exclaimed.

Arthur noticed that France's cheeks had flushed crimson, and he wondered if France was THAT ANGRY. Or could... could Francis be EMBARRASSED? But what did he have to be bashful about? Unless... He'd had a fleeting moment of realization in his captain's quarters, but could that REALLYbe what it was? England gulped, his own pulse and body heat rising. Jesus Christ, was he really about to do this...?

"France." Arthur's voice was commanding and stern.

The Frenchman started a little bit, and the edge in his cobalt eyes vanished. "Q-quoi?" he asked in French.

Although England's French dictionary was small, he understood that word: What?

"Let's get a drink," Captain Kirkland said, grabbing France's wrist and dragging him into the inn.

The Red Snake Inn looked like a pigsty and smelled like cow dung, stale beer, and burnt beef. Broken glasses littered the floor, and a dried puddle of blood stained the floor just beyond the threshold. Francis' whole face twisted with disgust, but Arthur led him in and paid no attention to his whining. "We can't get a drink somewhere else?" "England, I'm sorry for calling you a pigdog, it was wrong!" "Please, England, I'll find you a nice lady somewhere else!!! Please, don't make me go in there! They might all have fleas!"

"Oh, would you shut your trap?" Arthur growled. He basically tossed France onto one of the decaying bar stools that still stood upright. A lot of them had been tossed over or were taken, but they found three empty ones at the very end of the long, trash-littered bar. Scrap pieces of paper, shattered glass bottles, and a pair of ripped panties sat on the bar counter. "Ew," Arthur said, pinching the undergarments between his fingers and behind the island.

France's hand had immediately flown to the holster that carried his pistol when they'd entered. "Do you have some contact here that will murder me where I stand?" Francis asked Arthur, looking around suspiciously at all the patrons of the the Red Snake.

"Well, right now you're sitting, so they'd have a hard time completing their job now, wouldn't they?" England retorted as he signaled the bartender for two shots of brandy. Then, he turned back to Francis who was glaring at him. "What? You asked, I gave you an answer. It just wasn't the answer you wanted to hear."

"I have a feeling you want to tell me something," France said, straightening his back and hat and the little feather hanging over one of his eyes. 

"You got that right," Arthur replied coolly.

The shot glasses clinked towards the pirate captains, and Arthur shifted one over to Francis. "You'll have to pay for that, by-the-by," England said. He threw the drink down his throat and waited for the burning to stop before looking back over at France.

France's glare still drilled a hole into the Englishman, but England waved him off.

"Cheap bastard," muttered Francis. He sucked the drink down though and tossed two copper coins onto the table before huffing. "Now, WHAT did you want to tell me?"

When he glanced back over at Arthur, the English captain's head was down. Finally, England sighed and met France's gaze. "You asked me how I got through those Siren Waters, right?" he asked. "Well, I'll tell you how I get through there. The first time I went through the ravine, my nerves were shot, and I was pretty sure my entire crew was going to drown."

* * *

 

"Okay... So, men, we'll plug our ears with cotton," Captain Arthur Kirkland said, handing out pairs of swatches of cotton. He looked tentatively around at the sides of his ship, his heart jumping when he saw a shadow that looked suspiciously like a human being. He shook his head and continued down the row of men. He just wanted to end this torture of waiting and just die already.

Once Arthur was positive everyone had cotton stuffed into their ears, he took one last glance around before pushing one of the pieces of fabric into his right ear.

"Hey, Captain, what are you doing with those~?" a silky-smooth voice asked.

Arthur gulped his fear down and looked around. He was captured by the beauty of the girl leaning over the side of the boat, and he smiled at her. "Hello, love~" he said. "You're very pretty, you know~?"

"Oh, yes, I'm quite aware~" she replied, and her mouth opened wider. A creepy note slipped from her throat, and Arthur nearly reeled back. She had a beautiful voice, sure, but what song was she singing? It sounded like demons pouring from hell, and England didn't appreciate that one bit. "Don't you know any OTHER songs? Honestly, how is that alluring, Siren? I don't find it seductive or attractive at all."

The brown-haired girl went slack with shock. She stared at Arthur with wide, almost frightened, sea-green eyes. "What... what do you mean...?" she asked.

"I MEAN, I'd rather have France sing to me," England said. He crossed his arms over his chest, his tsundereness trapping all thoughts of beauty out of his mind. "Honestly. Please, I hate the song you're singing. HOWdo men find it alluring?"

Huffing, the Siren glared at him. "Well, you're rude!" she argued, her cheeks flushing red. 

"I'm a pirate, of COURSE I'm a jackass," Arthur retorted. "Get used to it, princess, all men are jerks."

"That's why I DROWN them!" the Siren growled, her long, spindly fingernails digging into the wood of his ship's rail.

England's fist clenched. "Stop ruining the polish! God, I just got it finished!" he said. He stepped closer to her, and the piece of cotton fell from his ear. His crew watched him in horror yet fascination. Their captain was mad... at a Siren. Was there anybody he would NEVER be angry at?

The girl snarled and snapped her shark teeth at him, and he grabbed her chin. "Quit it," he hissed, his green eyes burning.

She whimpered softly then ripped her chin back, her eyelashes fluttering in surprise. "You... you TOUCHED me!" she shrieked. "And I haven't KILLED YOU yet!"

"You're a spoiled brat, you know that, don't you?" Captain Kirkland growled. He drew his sword and pointed it directly at her chest. "Fight me, sea dweller. I dare you."

Suddenly, she exhaled slowly and shook her head. "I can't. I have a tail and can't stand on your ship," she said.

Some part of Arthur's brain registered that it was amazing she spoke English, but then again, he didn't care that much. He just wanted to be rid of her and this awful place. "Well, at least you're smart," England said, sheathing his weapon. "Do you Sirens have names?"

The girl nodded and sat herself on the ship's railing. "Yes. My name is Fiona," she told him, flipping her hair and running her fingers through it.

Arthur watched her carefully, cautiously. Would she try to attack him if he got too close? Probably. Could he just stick his sword through her, toss her off the side, and call it a day? He took another good look at her. She WAS gorgeous. Even her common, brown hair seemed to gleam like gold, and her sea-green eyes churned and tossed like the waves. He wanted to get lost in them, but he just couldn't. Something was holding him back, but he just didn't know what. "Ah, Fiona. I'm Arthur, Arthur Kirkland," he said, giving her a little bow but not taking his eyes off of her for a second.

"This is quite a change from your attitude from before," she pointed out, squeezing excess water from her hair.

The pirate captain shrugged. "Why not?" he said.

She nodded and stayed silent.

Without warning, another brown-headed Siren appeared on the side of the boat. She positioned her elbows like Fiona had and stared directly at Arthur. "What's wrong, Fiona?" she asked, glancing over at her friend. "What's wrong with this one?" She jerked her thumb in Arthur's direction like he wasn't there.

England didn't appreciate that at all.

"There is nothing WRONG with me," he protested, putting his hands on his hips.

Fiona rolled her eyes and looked over at the new arrival. "He's immune to our song," she said.

"Immune?" the newcomer said, her eyebrows raising. "That's new." She situated herself by Fiona's side and shifted her tail over the railing so she could see Arthur better. "What do you mean by 'immune', exactly?"

"He hates the sound of the notes," Fiona replied calmly. She turned herself like her friend and palmed her chin. "Are you  _sure_ there isn't physically weird about you, Arthur?"

Arthur blushed and glared daggers at the both of them. "I'm completely sure!" he said.

Fiona's friend giggled abruptly. "Aww~ He's kinda cute when he blushes~" she said, poking Fiona with her elbow.

A smile stretched across Fiona's lips, and she nodded. "I would agree to that~"

"H-hey!!!" Arthur shouted when another Siren appeared. She had blond hair that just barely touched her shoulders and the bluest eyes Arthur had ever seen... Well, besides someone else's he knew.

The blonde Siren raised an eyebrow at Fiona and the other girl. "What's going on?" She took a long look at England's crew and wrinkled her nose; that also reminded England of someone. "Ew. They're scrawny."

Fiona nodded. "Yes, they are," she agreed.

Arthur had honestly forgotten what it was like to be around women. He remembered why they annoyed him slightly - they just never shut up. And they talked about him like he WASN'T THERE. When he obviously WAS. "Would you quit criticizing my crew? They do their damn work, and that's all they're here for. They're NOThere for your enjoyment," Arthur snapped.

The blonde one now turned her penetrating gaze on England, and he stiffened when she gave him a onceover. "Hmm, yes, he's gay," she said. Then, she smirked, and Arthur's eye twitched incessantly. "I bet there's a dick calling to him somewhere across the sea~"

* * *

 

France burst into laughter as England - who's cheeks burned at a thousand degrees - relayed the Siren's line. "A DICKcalling to you over the SEA~?" Francis guffawed. He hunched over, his hand on his side. His eyes teared up at the corners, and he was laughing so hard it almost sounded like he was choking.

"Shut up, you asshole!!!" England yelled, punching France's back.

Now, the Frenchman really did cough, but he quickly righted himself and grinned at Arthur. "Oui, oui, whatever~" he said. "So, you're immune to the Siren's song because your... PREFERENCEis different~? Ooh, I knew it~!"

Francis seemed delighted by the news, and Arthur silently waited for him to figure out the worst part of the entire story. And the whole reason England didn't want to tell him in the first place.

"Wait just a moment!" Francis finally gasped, his blue orbs lighting up. "You said the blonde mermaid reminded you of someone~" He leaned over and whispered sensually in Arthur's ear, "Who was it~?"

Spluttering, England pulled back in horror. "Don't d-do that, you disgusting Frenchie!!!" Arthur yelled, startling everyone in the bar. He blushed even more than he already was when they all looked at him with vague fascination.

"Okay, I will not~" Francis said, leaning closer to Arthur with that infuriating smirk. "May I guess~?"

"I think you're going to whether I want you to or not."

"You are right, mon ami _~_ Hmm~" France stroked the stubble on his chin, and Arthur smacked his own forehead against the countertop.         

Thankfully, everyone else had returned to their hushed-toned conversations.

"Is it me~?"

Those three words made Arthur want to kill himself. He groaned in utter defeat and nodded into his sleeve. "Yes, git," he mumbled. "The reason I was immune to the Siren's song is because I'm gay for  _you_."

But instead of doubling over in laughter like England had expected him to, France leaned over and kissed the side of Arthur's head gently. "That's to be expected~" he murmured into England's ear. "No one can resist France~ But I am surprised YOUhave this long, England~" He smirked happily and bounced off of his stool, gathering Arthur up in his arms. "Now, onward~! We shall sail the seas together as husband and wife~! To the church, immediately~!"

"NO!!! I DIDN'T SAY I WANTED TO MARRY YOU, FROG!!!" England shouted, his hands shoving at France's chest.

The Frenchman just laughed that odd, perverted chuckle of his and kicked the bar door open, shedding sunlight into the rancid pit of filth. "Ah, fresh air!" Francis said. "OW!!!"

Arthur had pulled his hair viciously, seething. "Would you PUT ME DOWN?!" England yelled, struggling and thrashing around like a wild animal.

"Oh, mon cher, non~!" Francis said, crushing Arthur into a hug. "Come on, England! We can rule the seas!"

"LET ME GO, STUPIDHEAD!!! I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR WIFE!!!"

"Ohonhon _~_ my head isn't stupid~ It can find your asshole easily~"

"FRANCE!!! YOU DIRTY FROG!!!"

"Oh, but mon cher...~"


End file.
